Magic of the Mind
by Shellysbees
Summary: Request from Junejennings on tumblr... He had been at Hogwarts for two weeks, and already he hated it. Everyone was terribly boring, and despite Mycroft's insistence that he'd have no trouble making friends he had yet to make a single one. That was about to change.


Classes were done for the day, so Sherlock had found a pleasantly cool place beneath a large tree beside the lake to hide away from everyone else. He had been at Hogwarts for two weeks, and already he hated it. Everyone was terribly boring, and despite Mycroft's insistence that he'd have no trouble making friends he had yet to make a single one. Even for a Ravenclaw he was ridiculously ahead of his class, and that was just one of the many reasons students avoided him. At eleven years old Sherlock was already taller than most of the boys his age, and had no weight to fill out his gangly form. Not to mention his studies came to him with zero effort, but even that wasn't what got him the most attention.

Wandless magic had been something that came to him at an early age. It seemed rather normal at first, given that a lot of children are able to perform simple magic before they got their wands, but soon enough it became apparent that his abilities were beyond what was considered normal. For whatever reason many students, especially his fellow first years, seemed to think that this made him evil or tainted somehow.

Sitting back against the large willow tree, not the whomping willow of course, Sherlock closed his eyes and escaped, back into his mind where everything made sense. He brought the London Underground to the forefront of his mind, his fingers twitching minutely as he imagined every twist and turn throughout the city. He found it amazing that muggles were able to create such intricate infrastructures without magic. When he opened his eyes the grass in front of him had bent to his will, mapping out the underground just as he had seen it in his mind. He smiled, looking down at the picture his mind had created for him.

"How'd you do that?"

A short blonde Gryffindor boy had crept up behind him at some point and was now gaping at the intricate figures pressed into the grass. When Sherlock turned his attention to the boy the tension holding the grass in place disappeared, destroying his work.

He let out a sigh, slightly chuffed that he hadn't been able to keep his focus on two things at once. Looking back at the blonde Sherlock cocked his head to the side. He had seen him in one of his classes, muggle studies, but it was obvious that he was muggle born.

"John is it?" he said casually, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his long arms around them tightly, already uncomfortable.

"Yep," John said brightly, dropping down next to Sherlock, running a hand over the grass lightly as if he was trying to understand how it had been done.

"It's magic." Sherlock explained haughtily, but John didn't seem at all bothered by his tone.

"Well I know that, but you didn't have a wand out... I've never seen anything like that." His blue eyes lite up, obviously already entranced by the dark haired Ravenclaw.

"It's wandless magic," Sherlock offered, "Normally you have to study for a long time to do it, but it comes natural to me." He said the last bit quietly, used to people's general reaction.

John was silent for a moment, looking at the ground, the grass now lifting in the breeze rolling off the edge of the lake. When he looked back at Sherlock he had an excited grin plastered across his face. "That's brilliant!"

"Really?" Sherlock asked tentatively, wringing his hands in his lap. "That's not what people normally say..."

"What do people normally say?" John leaned back against the tree, looking out over the lake.

"Piss off."

John's head snapped back to Sherlock quickly. Seeing the other boys lips pulling into a smile he began to laugh. They sat there for a few moments, doubled over in laughter. When they finally calmed down enough that they could breath Sherlock looked back at the blonde curiously.

"You're muggle born right?"

"Yeah. How did you-" John started, but was quickly cut off by a swish of Sherlock's hand.

"You didn't know what wandless magic was," he explained, "Plus, you have a muggle photo of a girl on your book bag there. Your sister?"

John's jaw dropped and he gaped for a moment before responding. "Uhm. Yeah. That's my sister. I was the only one in my family to ever get a letter. My parents didn't even believe it at first."

"Yes most don't," Sherlock mused, a wry smile playing at his lips. "But why are you taking muggle studies?"

Digging into his book back John shrugged his shoulders, "Easy pass?" He said laughing as he pulled out a small bag. "Biscuit?" John held out the open bag to Sherlock.

Sherlock shot him an incredulous look before nodding and nicking a biscuit, nibbling on it gingerly. He watched John out of the corner of his eye as he munched on the biscuits. Something about this boy was different. Maybe Mycroft had been right after all.


End file.
